


everything reminds me of you

by boobear_meets_hazza



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Ex-Best Friends, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Home, M/M, Memories, Self-Hatred, Smut, Top!Harry, Unrequited Love, bottom!Louis, fetus larry, flatmates, hey angel, or minor self-hatred rather, present larry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:11:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5196887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boobear_meets_hazza/pseuds/boobear_meets_hazza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles has a habit of going back to the flat he and Louis Tomlinson had once shared. He blames himself for the awkward friendship they now have, and thinks maybe visiting the flat time and time again could make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything reminds me of you

Harry has always thought about selling the flat he's shared with his bandmate, Louis. He knows he wouldn't go back there anyway, or if he would it might just be for a day or two, whenever he couldn't sleep in his bachelor pad in East London. Of course, he is not the only one to have a say in it, considering that the lease also has Louis' name written in ink.

He could never forget how they decided to live together though, the five of them entangled on the couch during their X-Factor season, but Louis and Harry were in their own little world like always.

The four boys have mostly taken over the couch, leaving Harry such little bum space which had him sit mostly on Louis' lap, but neither of them were complaining about it. They've been talking about the nearing end of the season, and the unfortunate possibilities of losing and parting ways soon afterward. "I'll surely miss this," the oldest boy whispered to Harry, Louis' fingers absentmindedly playing with the curls loose on his forehead.

"Miss what?" he asked, a tad confused. His eyes stayed glued onto Louis' beautiful sapphire blues, which are slightly moist with tears. He wanted the tears gone, wanted to kiss them all away.

"I don't know," Louis shrugged, before playing off a pout on his lips, "I've grown fond of you, of course. Wouldn't want to get detached from you."

Harry's lips formed into a smile right away, "Well then, let's never detach!" He jokingly exclaimed before sitting up properly and wrapping his arms around the flamboyant boy's body.

Louis beamed like sunshine as he thought, before saying, "Well, there's always an option of moving in together."

It was a sudden choice for Harry; he had first thought Louis was joking, but deep inside he wanted it as well. Turns out, Louis was as serious as he could ever be, and neither of them couldn't wait 'til then. Louis was eighteen that time, and his parents had long trusted him with his life decisions. Harry was only sixteen then, however, but Anne has apparently trusted Louis of taking care of Harry, even if it seemed kind of the other way around.

It hurts Harry how big of a change their friendship turned out to be. He blames himself for everything, while Louis blames the fans, the media, the management. Harry was on his way to his bachelor pad when he realizes what day it was. It's merely an occasion he made up for himself, but he heads towards the place of significance anyway. It was the day Louis and Harry had actually moved in together, and it had Harry going back to the flat once more.

He hates himself and this reminds him of that hatred, for not yet being able to sell the place and having his feet drag him to it whenever he had even an unnecessary reason of going. He couldn't stop himself though, not when the flat had given him such beautiful memories he'd love to replay all over again. If only he could go back in time, he'd have a chance not to do the mistakes he did before. And maybe they'll still be living together, dating different people, yes; but still living together. And with that kind of setting, he thinks perhaps he can handle hurting everyday as long as he gets to live with his favorite person in the entire world.

He loves Louis, there's no doubt in that. And having to come back to their flat just reminds himself of the two of them fooling around, but he doesn't stop himself. He knows he'll get better sleep in there anyway, where home really was for him. Not in the bachelor pad that only fills in the basic need that is 'a place to live'. He loves Louis, but Louis doesn't love him the same. Big deal. All he wants is to fulfill his self-made tradition of going back to this flat like it's their anniversary, when it surely feels like an anniversary of himself being alone.

He gets to the flat and unlocks it with the key that's hidden deep in his bag. When he enters, nostalgia immediately engulfs him, bringing him to the brink of tears. He eyes on every single item that's laid there, left alone and unwanted, with a thin sheet of dust on each, but at least still there. He pads across the living area, taking in his hand a framed photo of him and Louis from a ski trip. He loved that and misses it every so dearly, his fingers lightly brushing on Louis' figure, and Harry doesn't mind the dust that's covering his skin because of it.

He steps back for the bigger perspective, different pictures of them in different places they've been through on different frames they've purchased as merchandise, while some are just individual pictures of each other from photoshoots and what not. Of course, they had photos of the five of them, but not as many as just him and Louis. As he moves back, his legs touch the cushion of their couch, before letting himself fall onto it with a loud _thud_  as his tears flow down his cheeks.

He hugs the picture frame for dear life, as if he'd lose it forever if he does. He just lays there and wishes maybe he could go back to how it used to, even if it were just in his dreams. The thing is, the memories have been fading and getting buried deeper in his mind, getting lost and blurry if he ever tries to recall them. He hates it, hates the feeling of wanting to remember something he craved for, but couldn't quite remember it clearly. He hates wanting to know the feeling of having Louis with him. He hates it. He hates how it has gotten between them. He doesn't hate everything, but he does hate himself.

People would love thinking they're moving on from something or someone they loved oh so dearly, but not Harry. Harry hates it. Harry hates himself.

He hasn't realized he had fallen asleep crying, until he wakes up with the sun no longer present in the skies, and his eyes wet and heavy. He feels his stomach grumble, and he decides to make himself happy with food before settling down in his bed and under the covers, probably 'Titanic' on the telly just so he could give himself another reason to bawl his eyes out.

So he gets into the kitchen and yet again another flashback occurred right in front of him, back when it was just a lazy day off and Louis and Harry had both talked about staying at home instead of hanging out with the lads or anything else. So they did, and it was when Louis said he'll make the two of them dinner this time, after the hundred times Harry had cooked for them. He was a little shy with the result, but seeing Harry's eyes practically light up when he took the first bite, he knew he had done a great job. Chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mash.... Harry's new favorite.

Shaking the thoughts away, he thanks himself for stocking the cupboards with canned goods to fill himself up whenever he goes here all of a sudden; at least he has a reason not to hate himself fully. He knows how to fill up cabinets and cupboards. Great.

After a late dinner, he puts in 'Titanic' as expected, wrapping himself in multiple blankets as he tries not to cry at every scene. He wonders how many times they've cuddled in bed while watching Titanic. He wonders how many times they've cuddled under the covers while watching any movie at that. He wonders how many times they've cuddled in general. He wonders if Louis ever wonders about it too.

He falls asleep with Louis in his mind: his beautiful blue eyes, thin cherry red lips, puffy fluffy hair, smooth sun-kissed skin, and everything else. He falls asleep with Louis in his heart.

It was years back when Harry has decided he had to tell Louis. He had to tell Louis he loves him. He's tried his very best not to fall in love with the boy, but he failed. But it isn't a huge failure; falling in love with Louis would be his favorite decision and he'd love to do again if he had the chance to. It's the one mistake he's willing to commit again.  _I love you; I've loved you since day one._ He's basically made himself a script, although every time he rehearses it, it comes out differently. But he doesn't care, all he knows is as long as what he'll say is genuine, then it'd work. He might as well just catch Louis' heart before it falls.... Cheesy much, Harry?

So he prepares himself further when Louis texts him with an '  _on the way home ! :) ave somethin to tell you_ ' after hanging out with Zayn. He hears Zayn was having problems only Louis knows about, so he replies with '  _I hope you made Zaynie happy. :) Alright, I'm just here. Also got something you need to know. Take care, Boo x. H_ ' before ruffling his hair into place, running around the flat keeping it from getting any single speck of dust.

He hears Louis' car as he approached, as if he were a cat with such a high sense of hearing and feeling, so Harry takes a peak from the window just to make sure he wasn't just hearing things because he's anxious. A smile plasters his face when he sees Louis' Porsche, and prepares the bouquet of candy flowers he had bought early that day, knowing he loves flowers but is allergic to pollen.

He's nervous and scared, but excited. He just wants it to be done and over with. He just wants Louis to finally be his. He watches Louis get out of his car, his heart kept racing and racing. But instead of going straight to the front door, he catches him jogging to the other side and opening the passenger seat with a huge grin on his face. A lady. A brunette? Curly haired brunette. Probably younger than all five of them. Eleanor?

His heart stops then, when he realized Eleanor's with him. He had remembered introducing them at a party a month prior, but never would he have thought they actually kept in touch after that. He was too out of it before he realizes the door was swinging open, and he still stood there shocked and empty, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Everything went downhill in just a quick second.

He runs to his room and dumps the bouquet in the bin, hands immediately flying to his hair, pulling in frustration. Why is she here? How could she be here? He hears Louis calling his name then, so he went back down as if nothing just happened. He greets Eleanor acting a little surprised she's here, after he had given Louis a long embrace. It might have been the last hug he'd ever get from him, so he made it last long.

Harry asked him then if  _she_  were what he was talking about when he said he had something to tell him. Turns out, it is. And they're seeing each other. And then they're thanking him for the introduction a month before. Eleanor was extremely pleased and grateful, while Louis seemed a bit off but smiling. By the time it was his turn to tell what he has to tell him too, he had already deleted the  _I love you_ part of his plan.

He hugged Louis again, craving for the feeling of him. "Thank you," he whispers. "This past few months were _extremely_ fun," he goes on, holding him at arm's length to look him in the eyes, "but I've gotten the bachelor pad in East London and I may have to move there by tomorrow."

He felt Louis tense up in his arms, so he apologized again and again in an unnecessary amount of times. But he really is genuinely sorry. He's sorry for not being able to tell him the truth. He's sorry for not being brave enough. He's sorry he's hurting instead of being happy for him. He's sorry for falling in love. He's sorry for being gay. He's sorry for being himself. But he doesn't need to say that.

The bachelor pad was a real thing, but the deal he first made was declined until just the day before. He bought it just in case of emergencies. But now he thought it would be better if he did live there, now that Louis has found himself a girlfriend. Harry would always be alone either way. So he made it seem like it was his real plan.

Harry wakes up from the nightmare of his past. The sun is already up and about, if it weren't for the rain clouds hiding it from view. Good thing the rain didn't take long, or else maybe he wouldn't be able to drive back to Cheshire to his family. He makes himself a cup of tea with milk, but no sugar. He has gotten accustomed to Louis' preference, not caring if it were too bland for him. He likes it now. He likes it so much because he remembers every time he'd serve the older boy some cuppa, he'd thank him so much he misses it.

It was around one o'clock in the afternoon when he's watching a recorded game of the charity football match Louis played in 2012. Zayn hadn't come then, but he made sure he's able to record the livestream of it. He doesn't know why, but he just feels like watching it that time. In the middle of the game, he suddenly hears locks unlatching, and for a second, he panicked. Thankfully, his head got around of the happening right away, taking a bat off of the shelf.

He makes his way near the front door in tiptoes, and he thanks the heavens for the numerous locks they've set up to give him ample time to get ready before the burglar comes in to commit the crime on him.... or whoever it was at least.

It surprises him as much-if not more- as the lad opening the door. They both stood in shock before Harry drops the bat to the floor, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. "L-Louis? Why are you here?"

Louis blushes red like a tomato, wanting to ask him the same but he couldn't right now. Not until he answers the question first, at least. "Well, uh," he starts, hand finding his hair before rubbing the back of his neck. "the boys and I have been contacting you since the day before yesterday... You weren't answering."

Harry's look paints of failed comprehension, trying to believe that it was enough for Louis to find him here. "Yeah. I'm sorry, haven't been able to charge my phone since I got here," he reasons out instead, even when he's just arrived yesterday. "How'd you find me?" he asks, but Louis just shrugs in response.

"Took me hours to drive here; d'you mind me resting for a while?" the older boy excuses.

"No, sure. Yeah, sorry, want some tea?" Harry offers, while Louis makes his way to their couch. He accepts the offer for a cuppa, quickly muttering "milk, no sugar please", with Harry uttering the same as if he's memorized it from the heart. They grin at each other at that, before realizing how long they've stayed smiling that they both lost their smiles awkwardly as Harry heads to the kitchen.

Harry is feeling anxious in Louis' presence, his heart picking up the pace as if its hoping to win a marathon. He wants to ask Louis right away why he's here, but he needed rest and probably space, for now. He doesn't want to scare him away. He's scared to lose him. To lose him again. Scared to lose someone for the second time; someone who wasn't even considered his at any point of their relationship... friendship, rather, Harry thinks.

So he keeps his mind off of Louis as he fills the kettle up with water and heats it up, right before he hears a crowd roar in glee from the other room.  _Shit._  The match. The game. The livestream that's really not live anymore. He's completely forgotten about it. It's on the telly and right now Louis is in the other room, most probably watching awkwardly and thinking how Harry is a horrifying creep watching one of his charity matches on his alone time. Oh no.

He fixes up and prepares tea for the two of them, before stepping into the living area, tiny beads of sweat from both the steam and panic are tracing parts of his hairline. "I-I- hope you don't mind me watching your one of your football matches."

"It's fine, Haz." Louis smiles beautifully genuine, and Harry suddenly feels like he's on the top of the world.

It took minutes for Louis to gather his thoughts before he asked Harry if they could talk outside, in the breeze and on the grass like they used to. Harry obliges, both anxious and excited, as he readies them a thin sheet of blanket to lie on. Harry lies on his back, arms bent and his head pillowing on them, while the older boy stays seated for a while longer. Louis starts with saying how Niall misses him and has been pushing Louis to look for him in days. Of course, Harry didn't tell anyone where he'll be, nor did he think anyone would actually look for him. So he apologizes.

Louis chuckles, eyes trained on the ground like his eyes could burn the blades of grass if he stares longer. He utters a quick "not your fault." The air grows thicker soon after, both of them anticipating a heavy conversation. "You do know Eleanor and I were never a real thing, yeah?" Louis swallows just as thickly as how the air feels for Harry. He's not sure where Louis is going with this, but he's going with it.

"Well, yeah." Harry just nods, his eyes closing for a short while before opening them again towards the clouds. "After management had me dating Taylor, I realized that maybe you two weren't as real as I thought you were..."

Silence follows. Neither of them know what each other were thinking for years, and this conversation means so much for the both of them. Their lack of communication has killed them numerously, even for Louis. Management never really cared about the relationship of the band with other people, moreover the relationships wherein the band really is rooted upon. The relationships between each member of the band. They didn't care if they're hurting the boys, so long as they follow the contract. And if it says nobody could know that they're just fake dating, then so be it.

Harry wants to badly apologize. He wants to apologize for not noticing it, for leaving Louis when he needed him the most. He realized that Eleanor could have been a beard when he was forced to date Taylor, but only now is he realizing the mistakes he made towards Louis. He's been here stumbling, victimizing himself with unrequited love, thinking Louis would never even like him at an ounce of how he feels for the boy. Maybe it's true, Louis wouldn't like him the same way, but he could have at least been the best friend Louis needed. But he wasn't.

Harry opens his mouth to apologize, but Louis beats him to it. "I missed you, Harold," Louis smiles, but his eyes are moist from tears. He really does miss him, Harry thinks, and he beams back just as genuinely. He doesn't care how Louis feels about him, all he's grateful about is to actually be able to spend his time with the love of his life. If this time ends and he has to face the reality of unrequited love, then so be it. At least he was able to be this close to Louis for one last time.

"I missed you too, Lou."

Tears blur Harry's vision as his eyes stay trained on the skies. Before he knows it, Louis' whole weight is pressed against his, as he tackles in for a hug, an embrace they haven't shared for a long time with the exemption of group hugs. Their chests are flushed together, arms wrapped around each other's body, Louis' face nuzzled onto his neck. Harry can smell the mint shampoo in his hair, just like how it used to. He can't help but smile and cry at the same time, just as he feels hot tears stream down his neck from Lou. Louis is crying.

"Are you okay, love?" He asks, worriedly. Immediately, he sits up, Louis' body almost weightless as worry fills his veins. "Louis, love, tell me... What's wrong?"

He sits properly and detaches himself from Harry then, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry," he shakes his head vigorously, a beautiful smile of his still visible. "I was afraid you'd hate me for dating Eleanor. I didn't love her, I swear."

Harry's eyebrows furrow in confusion, before he rests his hands on Louis' shoulders, squeezing them a little. "What makes you think I'd ever hate you? Especially for dating her?" he asks clearly and straightforwardly, green eyes piercing almost through the older boy's soul.

"I-I" he stutters, ruffling his fluffy hair before composing himself. "You suddenly decided to leave me, when you found out we were dating, Haz. Of course, there's something wrong with that. Just a week before, we were talking about the flat you wanted for yourself, and you told me you'd only live there when you think I've found the one..." Louis explains, taking a deep breath before he continues. "I guess at first I thought you only think she was the one for me, but I saw your eyes and I knew you hate us together."

Harry doesn't know what it was, but he feels a ton of bricks falling down onto him. Louis' words struck him to the core, and he doesn't know how to react to it. It's true, what he said. But what was Louis expecting from him? He's none other than the gay guy in One Direction, the so-called womanizer who actually isn't as much into girls as he is to men. With that, he breaks into tears, full on sobbing, just before Louis hugs him and holds him tight.

"Y-You think I hated you? For that?" He whispers, tears still prickling his eyes. He hates himself for being such a cry baby, but he looks into Louis' blue orbs either way. "Louis, I'd never hate you. I'd never hate you because I love you. I love you so much more than you'll ever understand. And I'm sorry, I just..." Louis cringes as he said 'I love you', sits properly and pulls his arms back to himself, no longer embracing the younger boy in front of him. "I just thought that if I move out and keep away from you, I-I'll be able to move on. I was so stupid, Louis. I never thought I'd actually fall for you, but I did. I'm so sorry for being like this."

Harry hates himself. Harry hates himself for telling the boy he loves him, when they are just trying to regain the friendship they once had. Harry is just a bad decision after another. He finally was able to tell him how he feels about him, when they both know Louis loves him not. He wonders that if they were in a different world, in a different time and at a different place, would Louis ever fall in love with him?

Louis still hasn't answered after such silence, and with closed eyes, Harry would think he has fled if it weren't for Louis' quick and heavy breaths. Of course he's breathing like crazy, how could you not if your stupid former best friend just told you he loves you when you absolutely have no feelings for him? How could you not nearly pant like a dog, when your best friend is crying waiting for your 'I love you too' when there wasn't any 'I love you too' to give? Louis stays silent. Harry continues silently cursing himself.

"Fucking hell, Harry" Louis utters, breaking the silence, urging Harry to hate himself even more. Louis drops his face on his hands, unable to take it all in with Harry looking miserable in front of him. Now, he hates me, Harry thinks. He will never look at me the same again,he continues. Harry then dares to peek at the boy, who is looking like a fragile young one who has just lost his parents. Only now, he might have just lost his best friend. He faces back up to the curly-haired lad, tears staining his cheeks. "I've loved you for so fucking long, Haz, all you had to do was tell me and not leave."

Harry's eyes widen in disbelief, not quite comprehending what his ears have got him. "You-" his eyebrows furrow, "You love me?" He questions, his eyes alone holding so many emotions: hopefulness, confusion, wonder, anxiety, happiness, disbelief, and love. "Am I hearing right?"

Louis breaks off into a grin that he tries to hide, the back of his hand wiping his tears. "Yes, Harold, you bastard." he looks up at the sky, eyes crinkling as he smiles, almost as if thanking the heavens for the existence of this boy in front of him. He laughs at boy whose jaw could almost touch the floor. "Don't wanna seem emo right now, but you were the one who left, you know." He shrugs.

Harry chuckles embarrassingly, after all the cries he's made in front of this lad. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, trying to find something to do as he makes his sentence. He tries and fails, so he ends up with a simple "I'm sorry, Lou." His voice is still shaky, but his emerald orbs are full of sincerity. "How could I have known you and Eleanor aren't together for real though?  _That_ 's my reason." He grins.

"Ehh," Louis starts thinking but he doesn't get an answer from himself, so he goes with it and agrees with a "good point," and a laugh instead. "I guess I'm just that of a great actor, then." He jokes, winking at Harry who smiles from ear-to-ear.

"Well at least I know how to hold a hand," Harry fires at him, attacking the numerous attempts of hand holding Louis has done with Eleanor. "Oh, and to kiss." He adds, remembering the poisonous taste on his lips when he was tasked to kiss Taylor on New Year's Eve, and again, the multiple attempts of Louis kissing Eleanor and other girls from the club. Yup, Louis doesn't know how to hold a hand and how to kiss properly.

"You think you're too much of an expert now, don't you?" Louis spits back, crossing his arms across his chest as he raises an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "Prove it then, you little shit."

Harry giggles at that, a little too much like a little girl now, to be honest. But instead, he raises a hand and stretches it out, offering Louis to place his hand against his. "Come on, Lou," he urges, voice gentle already. Louis raises his hand and slowly puts it against Harry's huge hand, his fingers barely reaching each half of Harry's. Their hands are no way in the same size, but it sends a tingling feeling to Louis and gets Harry's heart to warm. Harry smiles at him and he grins back, before the younger lad slowly slips his fingers in the slots of Louis', latching their hands together.

Their eyes are trained at their clasped hands, and they immediately love how they easily slot in together, like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. When they've held each other for a long moment, the green eyes meet the blue ones. Harry's heart races and at that exact moment, he knows he's happy. Tears almost pricked his eyes once more, before his free hand reaches for the older boy's face, fingertips only brushing from his cheekbones, to his small nose, down his lips, tracing his jawline, before brushing just his thumb along his cheek. "May I kiss you?" Harry asks carefully, anxious but hopeful.

"Do as you wish," he speaks up more confidently than the curly-haired boy, before Harry finally closes the distance, eyes fluttering closed as their lips touch. Harry feels overwhelmed with the taste of Louis' lips, plump and wet and soft unlike anything he's ever imagined. At first they were slow; their movements are graceful and sweet, just relishing on the fact that the other loves him.

Their clasped hands stay intertwined, while Harry cups his cheeks with the other hand, and Louis' fingers disappear in the lanky boy's curls. Harry swipes his tongue against Louis' bottom lip, before putting it between his teeth and pulling on it lightly. Louis lets him in and their tongues dance together, moving in sync. Their hands shift away as Harry leads them both to lie Louis on his back, their lips never leaving one another. The older boy lets out a whimper that gave Harry the chills, loving how he could get beautiful sounds from Louis.

They break away to catch their breaths, panting and smiling from ear-to-ear like crazy, in love teenagers. Harry's emeralds shift from Louis' blues to his smile and back, as Louis traces his finger to the dip of Harry's dimple, across his bottom lip, and moves his hand to the back of his neck to pull him back into a kiss, before his phone interrupts them from his pocket. " _Fuck_ ," he curses and Harry giggles at him, both of them sitting up, as he reaches for the noisy disruptive object from his apparently very skinny jeans.

"What is it, Payne?" He quickly answers upon seeing the name, and Harry almost laughs too loud at Louis' frustration towards their best friend.

"Have you seen Harry, yet? I tried checking up on Anne and Gemma again and Niall even asked his friends from LA; none of them know where he is." Harry hears the worry in Liam's voice, and he feels his heart fall to the pit of his stomach realizing that he's made everyone worry about him. Louis notices it and squeezes his hand lightly, nodding ever so gently to reassure him that's it's okay.

"Uhm," Louis starts, ruffling his hair from the hand that isn't holding his mobile. "Yeah, Liam. Sorry, but yeah, I'm with Harry right now. We're in our flat, see you tomorrow?"

Harry and Louis could almost hear the smile building up on Liam's face when he says, "You're in  _your_  flat-" so Louis cuts him and hangs up before he finishes. Harry smiles with eyes brightly glowing, before losing his smile altogether. "I'm sorry for hiding out here, turned my phone off and all that," he explains with a frown.

Louis gives him a small smile and reassures him that it's alright, before they dive into a conversation of the how's and why's they both ended up in the flat. "How did you even know I was here?" Harry asks him, curious and eager, but afraid to hear that Louis just thinks he's a sappy man in love with the days of the past.

But instead of an immediate answer, he stutters and mumbles and thinks of what he would say, before stuttering again. Harry catches on and a smirk plays on his lips, his dimple showing off. "You didn't know I'd be here, did you?" his eyebrow raises and he squints at the older boy, trying to see if anything in his eyes would let out what he wanted to see. And they did. Every emotion show up in Louis' eyes like an open book.

"I- I took a wild guess. We were all looking for you for fuck's sake, Harold." he answers with a harsh tone, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Harry's smile doesn't falter, his green eyes remain trained on his blue ones. "Okay, fine. Maybe I didn't know you were here at all and I went here anyway," rolling his eyes at the boy, not wanting him to know he went here on his own accord without thinking of finding the boy here. "I guess I just wanted to have some peace and quiet... but I wasn't the only one now, was I?" he continues, the smile Harry had long ago grown fond of return on his lips.

"Point taken," the curly-haired lad agrees, eyebrows shooting up a bit and lips curving downward in mockery. He has a trouble sinking in the thought that Louis comes here mainly for peace and quiet. He doesn't know if it's only him, but once you enter the flat, all the vibes he gets are from the days he and Louis were together, either curled up under the sheets of one of their beds or cuddled up in front of the couch watching a movie. Of course, maybe it's just him, but he still doesn't take Louis' word for the simple peace and quiet, especially when he wanted to ensure that Harry didn't think he and Eleanor were together for real.

"'Nuff about me, why are you here with no mobile on and everything?" He asks curiously, but Harry could tell he has a feeling Harry just loves the nostalgia from the flat. "You're murdering people and hiding 'em here, aren't you?" He jokes when Harry hasn't answered right away, standing up for a moment to go around as if searching and asks "where are they?!" before sitting back down again.

Harry laughs his unique cackle just for Louis, before he finally composes himself a little after, replying with, "you want an honest answer?" to which Louis simply nodded. "I- I always go here during down times." He almost barely audibly speaks, playing with his hands while his eyes are trained on the ground. "I guess it just uhm, gives me my peace of mind. My safe haven." He swallows thickly, wondering when he had starting tearing up when he wipes the tears off of his cheeks with the back of his hand.

Louis reaches out to wrap an arm around his waist, pulls him closer to his body and plants a kiss to his shoulder. He doesn't continue the conversation and Harry is grateful; both of them are content as they slowly lie back down, eyes watching as the clouds move and create different shapes and images. Louis folds his arms and rests his head on his hands, Harry resting his head on Louis' chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heart as his green eyes are on the small distant trees that make up their far horizon.

They lay there, legs all tangled up like how they used to. Seconds turn to minutes turn to an hour or more but neither of them care. Beautiful and peaceful silence engulfs them. Harry finally shifts, resting on his side as he props himself up on his elbow, turning to Louis who looks a little sleepy now. "Hey Angel," he calls quietly, as if afraid to wreck the peacefulness. Louis looks at him with a raised eyebrow at the crazy nickname, but Harry just continues, "do you know the reasons why," he smiles, "we look up to the sky?"

Louis' eyebrows furrowed as he attempts to find an answer, before realizing where the reference came from when Harry smiles. "Oh come on, raconteur! I thought you were being serious!" He laughs along with the green-eyed boy, playfully pushing at him who dropped with a thud as he lost his balance. The blue eyes shot wide open at that, sitting up to check on the lad. "Are you okay? Oh god, I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know you were _that_ weak."

Harry starts laughing again, after just taking a breath. "I'm not that weak, Tomlinson!" he roars, tackling the boy and they roll around the grass, roughly playing on who is stronger. They end up with Harry on top, using his long legs to wrap Louis up and keep him from moving, his huge hands pinning Louis' tiny yet muscly arms on either side of his body. Their laughs fade and the air gets thick as they stare into each other's eyes.

Harry shifts to rest his knees beside Louis' hips, stretching his arms as his hands are grounded on either side of Louis' head. Blue eyes locked with green ones, as air thickens around them. "I love you," Harry states once more, eyes still full of intensity and sincerity as earlier's. He watches the boy as he breaks into a grin, crinkles showing at the sides of his beautiful blue eyes. "I love you too, Haz. Always."

The older boy pulls him into a kiss full of passion and heat, unlike the gracefulness from a while ago. His small fingers play with the long curls of the boy on top of him, as Harry's huge hands roam up and down his arms, his chest, and back. Harry moans when Louis' tongue slides inside his mouth, and feels himself fuller when Louis replies with a whimper when he moaned.

Louis rolls his hips and Harry shivers at the feeling, having himself pressing Louis down onto the ground to create more friction on his shaft. Louis reaches for the back of Harry's white shirt and almost tears it off just to get it off of his way. Harry smirks at his eagerness and watches Louis as his eyes trail up and down his body, fingers tracing his muscles.

The boy's eyes return to his and he rolls his hips down onto him, loving at how his thin pretty lips part as he did. He lets his fingers brush down Louis' body and graze one of his already hard nipples before getting a hold of the end of his shirt and tugging it off of him like a madman. Their topless bodies flush together and Louis almost harshly claws onto Harry's back as he continues to grind on him.

Harry quickly unbuttons Louis' jeans and tugs it off in one swift motion, his shoes slipping off with it. His green eyes grow wide as he eyes Louis heavenly as ever, the sun reflecting on his sticky fluff hair as if it were his halo. Louis' cheeks turn evidently red from his heated stare, bringing him to have to pin him down and kiss him all over. He kisses him on the mouth and on his cheeks and on his nose, before trailing kisses down to his neck. He hears Louis gasp in pleasure and he sucks the skin there, swiping his tongue a couple times.

He feels Louis' hard-on right on his stomach, and it makes his dick twitch when Louis whimpers beneath him. He looks up to see his blue eyes dark and hooded, bottom lip between his teeth. "God, Louis, you're so perfect," he states, no longer afraid and anxious, but feeling confident and happy. A smile bites through his face when Louis whines and he feels his hands push him back down, wanting more of Harry's lips on his body.

So he did, sucking on his left prominent collar bone before trailing kisses across his chest, flicking his tongue on his right nipple and using his other hand to finger the other. Louis writhes, pulling on Harry's hair for support. "What the fuck are you doing, Harry, stop playing with me," he curses frustrated, voice raspy and deeper than usual, causing Harry a smile with dimples.

In a flash of lightning, Harry slides his tongue down Louis' body until he reaches just above his boxers, fingers tracing his waistline. Louis unintentionally rolls his hips once more, aching for friction, his crotch pressing into Harry's face. "Now, now, we don't want you slapping against me, now, do we?" The curly haired boy antagonizes, using his huge hands to hold Louis' hips from moving. "Not yet, at least," he smirks, winking at the aching boy.

Harry himself is intimidatingly hard, but seeing how Louis is restless beneath him makes him forget of his own throb. Carefully, he pulls the boxers down and his member bobs up to his stomach, already leaking on himself. Harry connects their gaze as he lowers down, watching Louis watching him, as he lets out his tongue and swipes directly at his slit. Louis hisses, rolling up against him for the second time on his face. Harry smirks.

He holds him down on the hips, teases him on the head repeatedly, causing Louis to whine and curse time and time again. In a swift motion, he rids one of his hands from Louis' hips to his shaft as he takes him whole. He feels Louis' harsh pull on his hair, but it only caused a helpless groan to come out from him. He knows the vibration would send through Louis' length and he's proud of how Louis looks beautifully ruined and it's all because of him.

He starts to bob himself up and down, quickening his pace every second. He had Louis panting in no time. He swirls his tongue especially on the tip, sucking his cheeks to add to the sensation. Louis' legs start shaking, and he can feel him pulling him away but he couldn't. He takes him in deeper every time, letting it reach the back of his throat like it doesn't even bother or gag him at some point. He continues his fastening pace, taking Louis' balls in his hand and squeezing a little. Louis has been whimpering Harry's name again and again, trying to make him stop, but it was music to his ears.

Louis comes into Harry's mouth, past the pretty cherry red lips. He swallows it thickly and even licks a last stripe onto Louis' head, now painfully sensitive. Watching Louis finish in front of him reminded him of his own ache, reaching down his shorts to squeeze his own shaft. He groans, and Louis almost complains at how sexy it was he'd feel himself go hard again if he'd groan once more.

After composing himself, Louis takes his hands and replaces Harry's, pumping his member just as quickly. "I- I want you, Harry. Want you  _in_ me." Louis licks his lips and watches Harry's eyes go wide, surprised to hear that from him. The younger boy reassures him if he really wanted this, right here and right now, and he nods ever so vigorously. " _Please,_ " he adds.

Harry is already about to stand up to bring him to his room where he keeps his lube or just to run and get it, but Louis reaches for his hand before he could. "Harry, I've got-" he loses words, a tad embarrassed at how he'd tell him. "I've got a sachet of lube in my wallet. Always have it with me," Harry sees the tomato red color of his face, and he's fascinated with the words that he had just shared. He isn't quite surprised with the lube though, knowing lots of guys carrying a condom with them all around, what's wrong with it being lube?

He rushes to reach for Louis' jeans, pulling out his wallet and taking the packet of lube and a condom that's beside it. "Now, now, we don't need it, do we?" Louis squeals impatiently, quickly asking each other if they're both clean. Louis almost pries the lube away, frustrated at how Harry is taking his time a little too much, but he stretches his arm away from him just so Louis won't be able to reach it.

Harry slicks two of his fingers, before bending down to let Louis drape his legs over his shoulders. Louis gasps when he flicks his tongue and rims at it, holding Louis with his latched hands on his stomach. He unclasps his hands with one still heavily pinning him, one of his slicked fingers rubbing at his hole. Louis is whining when Harry pushes his finger at one go, the boy shouting his name unprepared and astounded.

He shifts to sit up straight, letting Louis dangle from him. He squeezes at the huge bum before getting the second finger in, curling and twisting them. Harry starts jerking himself off as Louis continues with his soft little moans and chants of his name, letting him know he loves every second of it. Harry doesn't understand how with Louis he could do this, barely caring about his own erection just so long as he keeps pleasing the boy he loves and has been pining for for years.

He gets his third finger in with a quicker pace when Louis squeezes his shoulder tightly, repeating "w- want you," in between pants. With shaky hands, he slicks himself, moaning at the warmth of the liquid, before removing his fingers from the boy. Louis spreads his legs wider and lets them rest on the ground and watches in anticipation as Harry guides himself to Louis.

Harry teases his entrance, his throbbing warmed up head rubbing at his hole. Harry is on his knees as he slowly eases himself inside, Louis' eyes shutting close and his hands fisting tight on the blanket beneath them. Louis is so hot and tight that he doubts he could last long. Louis cries at the fullness of him, Harry asking him if he could continue, eyes of green afraid to hurt his love. Louis nods, before Harry starts moving in and out, slowly and steadily increasing their pace.

Deep raspy groans and soft tiny whimpers feel the air, as they make love for the very first time. Harry is overwhelmed by everything, his numerous imaginations never enough to prepare himself from this. He bends down to give Louis a quick sloppy kiss, letting their bodies collide from two wholes into one. It's the tattoos that fills his heart with such sappiness, seeing them align perfectly with matching shades of black and grey. He wonders if Louis had done it purposely to subtly let him know but he was to blind to realize, or if it were fate bringing a bunch of coincidences together to create the perfect catastrophe that is the two of them.

"I- I'm close," Harry utters, nuzzled into his neck.

"Come for me, baby." Louis' voice is gently heart aching, bringing him to the brink of tears along with all the thoughts on everything. With one final thrust he comes, Louis following him just seconds after for the second one today. He pulls out weakly before dropping beside him, an arm draped across Louis' chest. "Wow," he hears the boy weakly utter, before they both explode in hoarse giggles, pressing light kisses to each other from time to time.

He dozes off for a moment, Louis spooning him gently as he continue to watch the skies with a smile. Harry wakes up from the cold just as the sun is setting, casting a beautiful gradient of pink and orange on them and their surroundings. He hears a small sob from behind that had him sitting up a little too fast, turning to look at Louis who has tears in his eyes. "Louis, babe, what's wrong?" He asks, eyes welling up as well.

Louis shakes his head, before throwing himself to hug Harry as he sob, the curly-haired boy soothingly rubs his back. "I love you, I love you so much, Harry. I love you so much," he repeats, arms wrapped tight around him. It pains Harry to hear him like this, knowing how it hurts to hide what he feels and think that the person he loves doesn't love him back. But as Louis' tears stream down his body, he feels a smile, a smile meant for him and only him. Louis looks up to him, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, "I love you, Harry; nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong anymore." His smile is so bright, Harry hadn't known he could've fallen even deeper.

"I love you too, Louis. Nothing's gonna change that."

They fall into an easy conversation, Louis throwing Harry his torn shirt as they talk lots of things: from how they think they started falling for the other, to the meanings of their apparently matching tattoos. It's fascinating to have his best friend back with something a little more than that, chatting carelessly as they watch the sun set to the far horizon, stealing kisses from time to time. They've been through a lot, and nothing's going to tear them apart now.

They stare at the sky as the sun fully vanishes, and not to soon they've had enough of the cold and are both a little too chilly, so they decide to head back inside. As they walk side by side, a thought comes rushing into Harry's mind that had him stop in his tracks and pull Louis to look directly at him. "Lighthouse," he utters, pointing at his mermaid tattoo. Louis wonders what he's on about, so he continues, "you  _need_ to get the lighthouse next. You just have to!"

Louis laughs, rolling his eyes as he pulls Harry to continue their way inside. "Oh, Harold. My sweet, sweet little Harold, I already am going to, didn't have to know your say in it." He winks at the taller boy, and he bites back a grin as Harry's green eyes widen and he smiles from ear-to-ear, dimples showing off. "Glad you thought of it too, though." He smiles and pulls Harry for a quick kiss as they get inside, before getting interrupted by a ringing mobile  _again._

Louis pulls away, annoyed, having the urge to throw his phone especially when he reads it to be Liam. "For fuck's sake, Liam; what is it now?!"

**Author's Note:**

> Hi !  
> I hope you all liked it. I had troubles with writing the smut as it is my first time to publish this kind of content. I hope you enjoyed it still, and I'd take in any comment/suggestion!
> 
> x. dsrdxn


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